A New Challenger
by Leonidas701
Summary: Sly Cooper is on a quest to find the last missing piece of his family's history, and where Sly Cooper goes Carmelita Fox follows. But this time, she's not the only one chasing the master thief. No CarmelitaxOC romance.
1. Chapter 1

"Okay, I'm in," Sly Cooper said into his binocucom. He had just finished going around the outer parapets of the old building, jumping down onto the roof of the castle that housed his target.

"That's great Sly," Bentley said. "Now you just have to get to the main security room inside and let Murray in."

"On it." Sly slipped through the roof door and went inside the house. _Let's see, _he thought as he looked into the lavish hallway. He hid his body around the corner of the branch he had come out of. _Bentley said that it's the first green door on the- _Sly yanked his body back around the corner. He pressed himself flat against the shadows and pulled his binocucom out again. "Hey, Bentley? Didn't you say that he would prioritize protecting himself over anything else in the house?"

"That is correct," said the wheelchair-bound turtle. "All my research shows that whenever Rainier is threatened, he orders all of his men to stand guard outside his bedroom."

"Well, it looks like he's gotten a little smarter." Sly pointed the camera out into the hallway, showing Bentley the two burly gorillas patrolling up and down the hall with a flashlight in one hand and a gun in the other.

"What?! That's impossible, all my research says that he would never think to guard his mainframe! Oh, who knows what else he's changed! It's too risky, you need to pull out!"

"Hmm. Penelope?"

"Yeah, Sly?" said the purple mouse, her head popping up in the screen previously occupied by Bentley.

"Is your helicopter picking up anything strange?" Sly asked.

"Uhm, let me check." Sly's camera feed was replaced with the view from Penelope's RC helicopter, showing him the empty castle grounds save the pink hippo sitting in front of the gate. "No, the coast still looks clear. I think he just put some guards here," Penelope said.

"Okay then, no problem."

"Sly!" Bentley said, his sponge-like eyebrows rocketing upwards.

"Oh, come on pal. This is nothing," Sly reassured him, already making a plan of attack.

Bentley groaned. "Fine. It's your funeral, partner." He signed off.

Sly lowered the binocucom and looked up and down the dark green hallway while the gorillas' backs were turned. _Hmm. Too much light over there,_ he thought, looking in the direction of his destination, well-lit by the string of light fixtures adorning the ceiling. He turned the other way, seeing that the chandelier all the way at the end of the hall was broken, casting that side in shadow. _Maybe… Yeah, that'll work._

He waited until both gorillas were facing away from his entryway and stepped into the hall. He leaped up to grab the edge that jutted out from the archway decorating it. He quickly pulled himself up and balanced onto it. He jumped from there to the chandelier in front of it, then began leaping between the glass fixtures all the way down the hall to the broken one. Sly waited on his perch, counting the seconds until the guard that was making his way towards him turned around before he leapt down. He quickly picked the man's pocket, getting his golden watch, before smacking him up into the air with his cane, grabbing him in the air with the hook, and slamming him back down. The guard was unconscious. Sly quickly ducked back into the shadows as the other guard, hearing the noise but not seeing anything, came to investigate.

While the gorilla looked at the body of his colleague, he let his gun droop slightly. Sly took the opportunity, striking the gorilla four times before he could even lift his gun. The second guard joined the first on the floor. Sly let out the breath he had been holding, more out of habit than any actual fear.

"Okay, I'm good," Sly said as he went to the door that Bentley had said led to the fuse room.

"You're lucky that's true," Bentley said. "Okay, open up the gray fuse box and flick the switch that says 'Anterior'."

"Got it." Sly opened up the only gray box out of the six that were in the small room. He put his finger on the switch. "Murray, you ready?"

"The Murray is always ready!" said the pink hippo. "Just let me in, Sly!"

"Okay." Sly flicked the switch. "There you go buddy."

Murray stood up from his spot in front of the main gate of the castle. Without the additional electromagnetic force holding the metal door to the floor, the only thing standing in murray's way was 150 pounds of iron. He lifted it easily and went inside. "The Murray has arrived!" he said into his compiece. "Where are you, Sly?"

"Up here." Murray looked up and saw the blue-clad raccoon looking down at him from the third floor. "Come on," Sly said with a jerk of his head. Murray went up the stairs to Sly.

"Okay, lead the way buddy."

Sly and Murray went through the green, swampy-looking castle, going through elaborate halls and decadent rooms, all coated with silver curtains and gem-studded furnishings, making their way to the massive room in front of Rainier's bedroom.

"Okay Murray, give me a boost," Sly said.

Murray picked up his friend and threw him to the chandelier hanging from the ceiling just in front of the bedroom door.

"Whenever you're ready, pal," Sly said.

"The Murray requires no prep time!" Murray grabbed a vase near the room entrance and slammed it into the ground, shattering the piece of pottery.

Immediately, a dozen guards came pouring out of Rainier's room, all heading towards Murray. All but one. That one had the job of locking the door behind them, so no one could get to the boss. Since he was focused on that and the other eleven were focused on Murray, it was no trouble at all for Sly to drop from the ceiling and knock him out before the door could lock.

Scooping up the keys on a whim, Sly entered the bedroom. Or at least, he thought he was entering the bedroom. It turned out that Rainier kept a buffer between his place of sleep and his castle, presumably for the guards to stay in and not bother him. Sly used the keys to open up the door and, finally, he was in.

He took a brief look around the green room, seeing a large wardrobe, easily ten feet high, a massive bathtub, and a twenty feet square mirror covering half of one of the walls. As Sly tiptoed around the room, taking in the hideous green color, he found what he was looking for. An elaborate portrait of Rainier, slouching in his purple chair in his best dinner jacket. One small problem:

The painting was hanging at the head of Rainier's bed, which was currently occupied by the brown toad himself. Sly got his bearings as he tried to puzzle out a way to get to the painting. He decided that there was no way around it; he would have to climb up the bed's ornately detailed backboard. He carefully did this, moving slowly, inching up until he got to the top of the board and stood on it. He slowly slid along it, feeling for the edge of the painting. When he found it, Sly slid his fingers along the side of the frame, feeling for a-

_A-hah!_ Sly thought as he found the catch. He smiled and swung the painting away, revealing the safe inside.

_C'mon, Bentley, don't fail me now!_ he thought as he rotated the dials into the combination the turtle had figured out. _Let's see, six, one, six. _There was an audible click as the safe door popped open.

At the sound, Sly froze, looking down to check up on Rainier as he started shifting in his sleep. Fortunately, the brown toad only mumbled and rolled over. Sly slumped slightly in relief. He straightened up and felt around in the safe until his hand eventually fell upon the things he was looking for: a scrap of old parchment that he carefully folded into his pocket, and a massive blood diamond, bigger than his clenched fist. Sly attached the diamond to his back harness and, pausing to place one of his calling cards into the safe, rushed out the room as silently as he could.

Once he left the bedroom behind him, along with the buffer, he saw his trustworthy hippo friend standing among a pile of unconscious bodies.

"Any trouble, Murray?" Sly asked facetiously.

"These little punks were _no match_ for the power of The Murray!" Murray posed and flexed his arms. "You got them?" he asked.

"Right here," Sly said, patting his pocket and his back. "Now let's get back to the safehouse."

"Great idea. I was getting a little hungry."

The two thieves, successful in their quest, exited the castle and returned to the small building they were using as a safehouse.

The pair entered the house, each saying hi to the Panda King as he stood guard over the door. Murray went to the fridge, and Sly went straight to Bentley. The turtle was sitting behind a nice wooden desk, laptop off to the side, furrowing his brow and pursing his lips as he worked furiously on a calculator.

"Hey, Bentley," Sly said, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, holding his cane in one hand.

Bentley popped up in his seat in surprise. "Ahh!" he said. "Oh, it's you, Sly. How was it? Did you get the map?"

Sly nodded, holding up the piece of paper. "And the diamond." He took the rock off of his back and threw it over to Bentley.

"Ahh, the Kahaa diamond!" Bentley said. While he looked over it, Sly opened up the folded piece of paper and began thinking.

_**End of Mission Monologue**_

_It took a couple of weeks, but I finally had it: the second piece of the map to the Cooper family armory. Throughout the generations, the Cooper family had had different weapons, all hooks, but styled to match each thief's personal style. And, when time came to lay down the hook, all of the members of my family hung up their canes in our armory, right up until my grandfather, Alexander Cooper, lost the only existing copy of the map when he was just starting out. _

_It was stolen from him by the Malicious Militia, an old gang that I don't even think is around anymore. They split up before my dad was even born. I would have gone off to find the armory earlier, but before my dad could tell me… well… yeah. It was just dumb luck that I came across a piece of the map on a heist, but now I know they're out there. And I'm co-_

"Uhh, Sly," Bentley said, snapping Sly out of his monologue, his eyes wide. "Little problem."

"What?" Sly asked.

"This," Bentley said, "is a fake."

"What."

_**Three Weeks Ago, at Interpol Headquarters.**_

Inspector Carmelita Fox was a little annoyed. First, she'd been told (first thing in the morning, mind you) that she had to drag her ass to the commissioner's office, a task which would have annoyed her even if it didn't mean that she had to tear herself away from tracking down Sly Cooper. Then, building on top of that, she hadn't had her morning coffee. And, on top of _that_, she had been whistled at no less than three times no doubt by some rookies who didn't know who she was yet. Still, she knew she had to deal with it, and the sooner the commissioner was finished yelling at her, the sooner she could get back to work.

Thus, she found herself standing, irritated (the best mood to talk to your boss in) outside a wooden door with a plaque saying 'Commissioner Reeves'. She took a deep breath to calm herself, counted to ten, and put on her best neutral face. She knocked on the door and went in.

She saw the chief, a massive tan doberman, sitting behind his desk and looking at her over his bridged fingers and someone she didn't know: a red tiger in baggy jeans and a plain, black t-shirt, leaning against the wall. She ignored him, figuring he was an internal affairs officer of some kind.

"You wanted to see me, commissioner?" Carmelita asked.

"Yes," Commissioner Reeves said. He tilted his head so that his ears were pointing at the tiger next to him. "Inspector Fox, meet your new partner, Detective Bryce Stel."

"Hi," Bryce said as he walked up to Carmelita, hand outstretched.

Carmelita looked at the hand like it was holding an alien UFO. "What."


	2. Chapter 2

As she stared down at the red hand extended to her, Carmelita's mind was frozen from shock. She stood there, her head tilted down and her eyes wide, for at least a minute, until-

"Fox!" barked Commissioner Reeves. "Are you listening to me?!"

"...What?" Carmelita turned her head slightly towards the dog, still in a stupor until the words reached her brain. She snapped to attention, turning her whole body to face her boss. Quickly recovering her professionalism, she said, "Yes, sir. My apologies." She resisted the urge to turn back and look at the tiger, whose hand had been retracted.

Reeves growled. "As I was saying," he said, "the higher-ups have been concerned about your recent performance in the field. You've been on the Cooper case for no less than three years, and in spite of that you are still no closer to capturing him then you were at the start."

Carmelita forced down an objection, maintaining her professional stance.

"Adding the fact that you haven't done any active work on bringing down other criminals, they feel that your talents could best be made use of elsewhere. They want you off the Cooper case."

Carmelita couldn't stop herself. "What?!" she said. "They can't be-"

"_I am not finished, Inspector_," Reeves said, glaring at the fox. Carmelita folded her arms and silently fumed.

"Taking into account your impressive amount of high-profile arrests made while tracking down Cooper, such as the Fiendish Five and the Klaww gang, I was able to convince the council that you would be of better use if you were still allowed to follow him. But they're not sure that you can do it alone. The closest we ever got to getting Cooper was when you were working with Neyla, so they've decided to assign you a partner."

"Yo," the red tiger said.

Carmelita tried to protest. "This is-"

"The only way you'll be able to stay on the Cooper case."

"I don't need some chump getting underfoot and slowing me down!" Carmelita said as she glared at the relaxing tiger who was leaning next to the hatrack.

Reeves gaze hardened. "I _personally_ selected Detective Stel as your partner. Are you calling my judgement into question?"

Carmelita opened her mouth to reply.

"The _same_ judgement, might I remind you, that thinks you should be kept on the Cooper case?"

Carmelita closed her mouth, screwed up her eyes, and clenched her teeth. She took a deep breath. "No, sir," she said.

Reeves nodded his head. "Good. Here's his file." Reeves picked up a fairly thick folder out from his desk drawer. He held it out and waited for Carmelita to take it. When she did, he said, "Now get out of my office."

Carmelita exited the room, the red tiger coming out with her. Once the door slammed behind them, he tried extending a hand to her again, but caught her deathly glare as she clenched the folder, her fingernails digging into the cardboard.

Using his magnificent detective skills, Detective Stel decided that now was not a good time. "You know what," he said, holding his hands up as he took a step back. "I think I'll give you some time to look through that alone. I'll come talk to you in a couple hours, okay?"

Carmelita's glare did not lessen, but her teeth unclenched slightly. She realized that, like it or not, she was going to have to work with him. Still, she didn't want to risk opening her mouth for fear of what would come out. She just curtly nodded at him, spun around on her heels, and walked away, not even waiting for his response. She made a brief stopover to get some coffee, then went to her office.

Carmelita's office was a little small―not that she really minded, because she was almost never in it, usually spending her time tracking down Cooper―and quite barren. There was a comfy office chair, a desk to go along with it, a lamp, a pencil jar and sharpener, a desktop computer, a filing cabinet pressed up against the back wall, and a pair of clocks: one digital and resting on the desk, the other analog and hanging above the door. The whole place would have seemed like a showroom piece detailing a generic office if it weren't for two pictures on the desk. One was upright and proudly displaying its contents to whoever should stand behind the desk, but the other one was facedown, concealing whatever image lay within.

The Inspector sat down behind the desk, her coffee in one hand and the Detective's file in the other. She put them both down and hung her head, holding it up with her hands as her fingers massaged her temples. She caught sight of the upright picture, and after gazing at it briefly, Carmelita sighed and drank some of her coffee.

_Okay Stripes, let's see what you've got,_ she thought as she cracked open the file, and began to learn about the person she would now be working with.

_Let's see, Detective Bryce Stel. Born in the U.S.A., age 22, operational since- Wow. This guy's been working for Interpol since he was eighteen. Must have been recruited straight out of high school. How'd that happen?_ Carmelita was recruited by Interpol as well, but that was only after she graduated college, top of the class, natch. _He's only been working for a year less than I have._ Still, this was all just set dressing. Very impressive set dressing, true, but to see if he was worth anything Carmelita needed to get to the meat of the file. She turned the page and began going over his case records.

As she thumbed through his arrests, looking for any names that jumped out at her, she began to notice something a little strange. _Why would the chief assign me a homicide detective?_ Carmelita looked back on the cases he had handled: a couple international serial killers, some murders that had taken place under circumstances that confused where jurisdiction of the matter fell, nothing that really said to her that this was someone who'd be a big help catching Cooper. Slightly confused, Carmelita continued her reading, looking for something that would tell her why the detective would be a help. It was then that she came across a name that not only jumped out at her, but slapped her across the chops.

_He took down Nekuro Foguma?_ The sight of the name made Carmelita's mind go back through the years, to a time before she had ever laid eyes on Sly Cooper. Foguma was one of the most notorious contract killers in the world at the time; everyone in law enforcement had heard of him. Called him the 'Phantom Shadow', or some such nonsense. He was one of Interpol's most wanted. Was, until around three years ago.

Carmelita didn't even pay attention to the parts of Interpol that she didn't work in, and she still heard about it when he got brought in. It was all anyone could talk about for weeks. Carmelita's eyes went wide as she looked through the case report. Stel had chased him down over the course of a year, eventually cornering him in Brazil just before he could take down the Secretary of Commerce. Foguma tried to kill himself rather than be taken in, but Stel had managed to shoot him with a tranquilizer dart before he could bite down on his poison pill.

It was after this point in the file that she started to notice a new trend emerge. Still murders, but murders being perpetrated by international spies and gangsters. _This guy's a manhunter,_ Carmelita thought. He had dismantled criminal gangs, mercenary bands, even disrupted illicit operations of nations, each of which they denied involvement with, to apprehend his target.

By the time she had reached the end of the file, Carmelita was quite impressed. She still wasn't sure that he had what it took to take down Cooper and his gang, considering that he mostly dealt with big, sedentary projects and Cooper's gang was small and capable of moving their entire operation to another side of the world within hours, but she saw that he would, at the very least, be a help rather than a hinderance.

Between the knowledge that her new partner was competent, her now having had her coffee, and the time that had passed, Carmelita was much calmer now than she had been when she left the commissioner's office. She looked at her desk clock and saw that it had been roughly an hour since then. She looked at her computer, her hands twitching at the knowledge that there were fresh reports on the activity of Sly Cooper just waiting to be read―maybe she could figure out where he was going this time and stop him before he could take so much as a break. But then her eyes came back to the file, reminding her of the fact that she now had a partner. Carmelita sighed. _Might as well dive in headfirst,_ she thought. _Besides, I need to apologize for how I acted._

Inspector Fox pushed her seat out, got up, and left her office to start searching for Detective Stel.


	3. Chapter 3

_One. Two, _Carmelita thought as she walked through the hall, counting off the doors that she passed on her right. _And… three._ She checked the plaque on the door. _Looks like that secretary was right._

**Det. Bryce Stel**, it said on the nameplate. Carmelita sighed in relief; her long trek was over. Not being one to socialize much in the workplace, Carmelita had never had cause to memorize the layout of most of the Interpol building. This meant that she didn't know where the Green Wing, the location of Bryce's office, was, much less how to get to it. This led to her wandering between the floors of the building for longer then she would care to admit before she remembered that the front desk existed for these exact situations. But, after going there and getting extremely detailed instructions from the receptionist, Carmelita was able to make her way to her destination.

She rapped on the door and waited for a response. None came. She knocked on the door a bit harder and still got no reaction. The orange vixen frowned. _Is he at lunch?_ she thought. _Maybe he's just focusing on something and can't hear me._ She checked the door handle and felt it give way. That clinched it; no Interpol officer left their office unlocked when they were on break. It was a security risk. She opened the door and got her first look at Bryce's office.

It was much more casual then Carmelita's office. Bryce had a dartboard up on the wall, magnetic of course, Interpol don't want their walls with filled with holes. Instead of filing cabinets, all of his files were arranged on a pair of bookshelves, behind locked bulletproof glass, natch. There was a fake potted plant, which she could tell was fake because real leaves aren't flame-patterned, in a corner across from a ridiculously large lava lamp that stood on the floor and went higher than her head. Each wall held at least two posters, all of which were askew, bothering Carmelita to no end. His desk was pressed against one of the side walls and was littered with loose pencils, papers, and pens, occupying all the space not already taken up by the computer monitor or any of the photos that were placed on it. That's not to forget the red tiger himself, slouching in a reclining swivel chair behind his desk with white earbuds in, staring at the computer monitor with one hand on the mouse and one on his chin. He could've been mistaken for a statue if it wasn't for the finger swiveling the mouse wheel.

Carmelita walked up to him and tapped him gently on the shoulder. Bryce's head jerked back a bit but he recovered quickly. Blinking rapidly, he used one hand to rub his eyes and the other to pull out his headphones as he swiveled to face the Inspector. "Inspector Fox," he said with an easy smile. "Listen, I'm sorry about earlier, I thought Reeves told you about me, I had no idea he was just going to spring it on you like that."

Carmelita felt a bit awkward considering she had come here to apologize, and wasn't expecting to get an apology. "That's okay," she said. "I'm sorry for the way I acted. I had no right to disrespect you like that."

Bryce made a dismissive gesture. "Don't worry about it. Like I said, it was a dick move on Reeves's part. But," Bryce said as he stood up and grabbed a jacket that was hanging from the door, "if you're here now, I assume you're over it now?"

"Yeah," Carmelita said.

"Great. Hey, I was going down for lunch, you care to join me?" Bryce opened the door.

Tiny little alarm bells went off in Carmelita's head. She realized that, before their partnership could get underway, there was one rule she had to lay down. "Look," she said gently but firmly, her past experiences having taught her that anger at this point would be premature, "I am fine being your partner, but if you're expecting some kind of relationship out of this, I have to tell you right now that it's not going to happen."

Bryce looked at her with confusion for a moment before chuckling. "Oh, you don't have to worry about that," he said as he pointed at one of the pictures on his desk. Carmelita looked at it and saw a smiling black pantheress standing in front of a sunset at some beach.

"Your girlfriend?" Carmelita asked.

"My fianceè," Bryce said.

"Oh." Carmelita turned back towards him. Not knowing what to say, she just said, "She's very pretty."

"I'll tell her you said that." Bryce motioned down the hall. "So, what do you say? Lunch?"

Carmelita figured that she might as well take the opportunity to get to know her new partner better, and she was starting to feel hungry. "Okay." She exited the room and turned.

"Uh, actually, the cafeteria's this way."

And then she flipped around, trying to keep the embarrassment off her face as she passed Bryce.

The pair went to the cafeteria and got their food. They sat at one of the empty tables and Bryce started talking.

"So," he said, "First and foremost, what do you want me to call you?"

"Huh?" Carmelita asked, her attention taken away from her salad.

"You know, like, do you want me to call you Inspector Fox, or Carmelita, or do you have a nickname, or…" Bryce looked at her expectantly over one of his slices of pizza.

"Oh. Uhh…" Carmelita hadn't thought of that. She took a bite of her salad to stall for time. She considered asking him to call her Inspector Fox, but that reminded her of Neyla. Suppressing a flash of anger at the thought of the purple traitor, she gave him her answer. "Just call me whatever."

"Really?" Bryce's mouth split into a massive smile as he straightened up in his seat.

Carmelita leaned back cautiously at his enthusiasm. "On second thought, Carmelita's fine."

"Aww." Bryce slumped and Carmelita felt a pang of guilt until she saw the smirk on his face.

"So, what do you want me to call you?" she asked.

"Lord God-Emperor Awesome Radical McKickass, Jr.," Bryce said, completely straight-faced. "The Third. Esquire."

Carmelita put all her strength into keeping any reaction off her face as she engaged Bryce in a staring contest. Bryce broke first, looking away from her with a smile and a laugh, causing a giggle to leave Carmelita's throat before she could stop it. Bryce shook his head before looking at Carmelita again.

"As long as it has either my first or last name in it, I'm fine," he said as he took another bite of his pizza, still smiling.

Carmelita ate a few more forkfuls of salad as she tried to think of a question. "What's your fianceè's name?"

"Tekka," Bryce said. "What about you? You got someone at home?"

Carmelita shook her head. "No. No t-" Carmelita stopped midway through her usual deflection of the question when she realized she was talking to someone with the same time constraints as her who was about to get married. "No."

"Can't find the right guy, huh?" Bryce said sympathetically. "I understand that." He took a sip of his soda.

"Great," Carmelita mumbled as she stabbed at what remained of her salad. "Don't suppose you could explain it to my parents."

Bryce was just barely able to cover his mouth and nose fast enough to keep soda from shooting everywhere. Carmelita blushed; she hadn't realized she'd said that out loud.

"Sorry, sorry," Bryce said as he wiped the soda off of his hand. "So, your parents are bugging you?"

Carmelita leaned back in her chair. "Ugh. Yeah. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love mis padres, but they're..." Carmelita rubbed her forehead as she tried to think of a way to describe her parents. "Ugh."

"Mmm." Bryce finished off his pizza and gulped down the rest of his soda. He pulled out his cell phone. "It's almost time for us to get back to work." He stood up and picked up his tray.

"Yeah." Carmelita took up her tray and they went off to put their dishes in the dirty rack. "Hey," she said. "You have Cooper's files right?"

"Uh-huh. I got my copies this morning," Bryce said.

"Great, but they probably only gave you the official stuff. I've got some theories on him and his gang's methods and patterns." Carmelita began heading back to her office.

"Really?" Bryce said as he followed, impressed.

"Yes. If you're going to be working with me, you're going to need a copy," Carmelita called over her shoulder. "Then we can get to work on figuring out where he's going next."

Bryce smiled. "I look forward to it."

With that, the two went off to officially begin their partnership.

* * *

><p>AN: Up next: Carmelita and Bryce take on The Sly Cooper Gang in: Blood Diamonds and Decoys.

You know what's weird? Sly Cooper can't pick locks. I mean, think about it. In the games he always has to steal keys.

If you liked this chapter, please let me know with a review. They give me motivation. Thank you and goodnight.


	4. Blood Diamonds and Decoys: Part 1

"So," Bryce asked, glancing over the tablet he was reading from to look at the car's dashboard clock, "when do you wanna switch off?" He looked at Carmelita. The fox kept her eyes glued to the road as she drove.

"I don't know. I'm not used to having someone else go along with me," she said.

Bryce's stomach growled. The red tiger smiled sheepishly and hid his face behind the tablet, even though he knew Carmelita couldn't see him. "Well," he said, "it looks like we're going to have to stop for lunch soon. How about we switch then?"

Carmelita grunted in the affirmative, momentarily removing a hand from the wheel to take a peppermint out of the container she had placed into one of the car's cup holders between the two front seats. Bryce looked back down at the file he was reading on the tablet.

It had been sixteen days since Carmelita had been called into Commissioner Reeves' office and the two had started their partnership; sixteen days of Bryce learning every single thing he could about Sly Cooper and his gang in between tracking their movements and trying to pin down where they were. The two Interpol agents had managed to narrow it down to somewhere along the north-eastern border of Spain when a call came in: someone was claiming to be Sly Cooper's current target .

The claims came from a Spanish businessman named Rainier, and it was his file that Bryce was reading. Rainier was a toad who inherited a fortune following his parents' accidental death. According to the reports, Rainier had very little business sense and quickly set about wasting the family fortune on flights of fancy. It seemed like he was all set to flame out and go bankrupt until a few years ago, when his fortune suddenly started to flourish once more.

A day ago he had called the police and told them that one of his guards had seen Sly Cooper stalking around his castle. The information reached Interpol and, after some quick fact checking to confirm how likely his claims were, Bryce and Carmelita were ordered to go down to see if he was telling the truth and, if he was, to catch Cooper.

Given how close their destination was to Interpol headquarters, the upper brass had decided to just have them drive there to spare the expense of a flight. Annoying as the drive was, it gave Bryce some time to check up on Rainier. He discovered that, given how quickly Rainer's company had risen from the smouldering embers, Interpol suspected foul play and launched an investigation. Said investigation was halted in its tracks when it failed to turn up any evidence.

Bryce relayed this information to Carmelita, adding, "Don't you think it's a little suspicious?"

Carmelita raised a disbelieving eyebrow. When she realized that Bryce couldn't see it because her face was angled towards the road, she said, "What? They didn't find anything so they stopped looking and went back to focusing on the real problems. Like you should be right now."

Bryce ignored her last sentence and spoke again. "Well, look at the timing. The investigation opens, and then closes two weeks later." Bryce turned to face Carmelita. "Doesn't that seem a little rushed?"

"Mmm." Carmelita's mind started to wander as she considered the possibilities. She realized what she was doing and pushed it away, refocusing on her driving. "I don't like it either, but rush jobs happen all the time. Besides, Interpol investigates every time something like that happens, and nothing else involving him has popped up. What makes you think this is any different?"

Bryce picked up a peppermint and started twirling it in his fingers. "None of the others were targeted by Sly Cooper," he said. He unwrapped the candy and began sucking on it.

Carmelita knew what he meant by that. Cooper had a reputation for only going after other criminals. But she still wasn't convinced. "Maybe he's getting greedy. Either way, our job is to go after Cooper, not Rainier."

"Yeah, you're right." Bryce closed the file, but not before saving it on his tablet. He pulled up a map app and scrolled through the area in front of them. "Looks like there's a diner coming up soon; you wanna eat there?"

"Sure." Carmelita turned off of the highway. "Just don't take too long. The sooner we can get to Cooper the better. Who knows what they could be doing?"

_**At the Cooper Gang's Brand-New Safe House**_

"Sly," Bentley called from the back of the van. "Remember to make sure you keep the table away from any windows."

"Don't worry, pal," Sly called over his shoulder at the wheelchair-bound turtle. "I remember." The racoon lifted up the small circular table and began carrying it into the gang's new safe house; it had only been established yesterday so they still had to bring in all the equipment.

"Uhh, excuse me, Sly," Murray said, balancing the fridge he was carrying on one arm so he could tap the racoon on the shoulder with his other hand. "Could you…?"

"No problem, big guy." Sly stepped to the side so the pink hippo could carry the fridge through the door. While he and the rest of the gang decorated the house, Sly thought about why they had come to the little Spanish village.

_**Mission Start Monologue**_

_About a month ago, me and the gang were robbing a dirty museum curator who was making forgeries of the paintings he was supposed to be displaying and putting those in the showroom, selling the real ones on the black market. While I was in his storeroom, taking the remaining genuine paintings from him, I noticed a box in there with them. What can I say, my curiosity got the best of me._

_Inside I found what looked like part of a very old map, and my thieving instincts went wild. I grabbed the little paper and took it back with me, leaving my calling card in its place. It wasn't until I was back at the safehouse that I felt the urge to crack open my family heirloom, the __Thievius Raccoonus__, and check the piece of paper. It was an exact match for the paper used to make some of the earliest parts of the book. I thumbed through those parts and found out about the Cooper family armory. I showed the piece of the map to the gang and explained it to them. Bentley got right onto figuring out where the rest of the pieces were. After weeks of searching and asking around, he finally got a tip._

_It turns out one of the pieces is being displayed by this Spanish nutcase who calls himself 'Lord Rainier'. He lives in a castle in the Spanish countryside, and has all of his servants live in houses around it._

_Rainer grew up in the lap of luxury, with his parents giving him everything he could ever ask for. Then, when his parents died, he snapped. He didn't know that he had to actually work to stay rich. First he was deluded, believing that the money would never stop as he kept on buying useless things. Then, when funds ran low, he became desperate, investing into anything. As his money ran out, he became more and more paranoid, until he refused to leave his castle. Then, one day, the money came back. He suddenly started making public appearances and smart business decisions. _

_Turns out, despite his lack of business savvy, he has a way with numbers. He can remember every single thing he had ever bought or sold. When he got desperate enough, someone called him up and offered to fix his empire if he would keep the books for their international smuggling ring. He accepted, and the rest is history._

_Still, even with all of Bentley's contacts, no one could tell him who exactly Rainier is working for. _

A small amount of worry crept into Sly's head as he pondered that last fact, turning it over and over in his head. Sly shrugged it away. It wasn't important right now; right now he had to focus on the mission. He glanced out the window and saw that the sun was almost all the way down. He looked around the safe house. Everything seemed set up.

"Hey, Bentley," Sly called. Bentley had already parked himself behind his desk and was looking over his computer.

"Yeah?" the turtle asked, not looking up from the screen.

"I'm gonna go out. Let me know when you've figured out what you want me to recon."

"I'll send you the coordinates over your binocucom." Bentley nodded.

"Great." Sly picked up his cane and headed for the door. "Later, Panda King," he said to the massive bear with fireworks strapped to his back who was meditating on the couch. He didn't get a response but he didn't expect to, meditation and all that.

Sly exited the house and looked around, a grin on his face. He jumped up to the nearest rooftop and began running around, grateful for the chance to stretch his muscles.

* * *

><p>AN: Yeah, this story is going to alternate between the perspective of the Interpol squad, and Sly and the gang.


	5. Blood Diamonds and Decoys: Part 2

He leapt across the gaps between the small, single-story houses. His feet were moving again immediately when they hit the next rooftop, never breaking their stride. He ran across the new rooftop, his feet navigating the gravelly surface with an ease that came after years of practice, adapting to the unfamiliar territory within seconds. The night was dark, lit only by the moon hanging overhead, while he ran. He focused only on what was immediately in front of him, jumping from the rooftop to a railing on a balcony, shifting by instinct from long, graceful steps to small, careful ones. He could feel the wind flowing through his fur as he ran in his dreamlike state, his mind empty except for the next step. _Left, right, left, right, jump left, grab edge, pull, swing over, left, right, left, right._

He felt there was a guard on this rooftop, two stories up. The guard watched, his gaze covering the road to the other side of the roof with his back pressed against the chimney. Not a problem. _Step left, again, again._ Sly leapt over the chimney, quietly tapping down on the other side_._ Suddenly, the guard shifted, his head turning left, right. Quickly then, behind the chimney, holding his breath in, Sly hid. He hid until the guard stopped moving. He came out from behind the chimney, walking, not running, to the other side of the roof. He leapt to the next rooftop, and finally, let out his breath. And he smiled. These were the moments Sly Cooper lived for.

No plan, no goal, no villain, just him and a city for a playground. Hiding in the shadows, resting on the fringes of other people's consciousness. Even without needing to take anything, these were the moments that Sly knew that he deserved the Cooper legacy. Still, all good things must come to an end. This one came with a vibration from his belt, pulling the raccoon out of the shadows and back to reality. Sly saw a nearby flagpole and quickly climbed up it, balancing on the tip. Unfastening his hip pouch and taking the binocucom out with one hand, he used the other to wipe the sweat from his brow as he brought the device to his eyes.

"What's up, Bentley?" Sly asked.

"Penelope's been flying her helicopter around the area, and she's done most of the recon I needed," Bentley said. "The only thing left is to find where Rainier is keeping his piece of the map."

"Any leads?" Sly turned the binocucom towards the massive castle.

"Yes." Bentley nodded. "According my informant, Rainier was displaying the map piece in his private study."

"Okay, simple enough." Sly smirked. "I'll just go in and grab it."

"No!" Bentley's eyebrows furrowed into a glare. "Rainier's castle is crawling with guards. Not even you could get into the main room unseen, Sly."

Sly's eyebrow rose in silent, cocky doubt. Still, he saw no reason to risk giving Bentley a heart attack. "So, what's the plan?"

"While flying around the castle, Penelope was able to locate the area where the air vents filter out and rip off the grate. If you can get in there, you should be able to eventually find a route into Rainier's office." Bentley shot Sly a look. "Fortunately, my contact told me that the interior air vents are all welded into place, so I don't have to worry about you... acting rashly."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sly asked with an innocent smile.

Bentley gave him a look. "Good luck, Sly," he eventually said. The transmission feed cut.

Sly shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. After putting the binocucom away, Sly jumped off the flagpole and onto a roof. He began running towards the castle.

After reaching the monstrosity, and climbing all the way up to its roof, Sly noticed a large group of gorillas armed with guns and flashlights, patrolling the area. Fortunately, none of them seemed to notice the missing grate, but there were too many lights around for him to be able to get to the hole unseen. The raccoon was thinking of a way to deal with them when he noticed a beam of light coming towards him. He quickly jumped down and hung from the edge of the roof, using his cane to hold on.

Sly mulled over his problem for a while, taking periodic glances on to the rooftop as he thought. Finally, after having memorized the guards' movements, he came up with a plan. He waited for the beam of light to go past the edge of the roof where he was and sprang up. Quickly, silently, he gave the guard two solid whacks with his cane, knocking him out cold. There were still three guards left, one patrolling up and down the center of the roof and two going in circles, one clockwise, the other counter-clockwise. Sly made his move while all the guards' attentions were directed away from him, running towards a pole sticking out of the roof that was connected to numerous power lines.

He balanced himself on the tip of the pole and sat there, waiting for the guards going in circles to cross in front of him. When they did, with both their lights pointed in opposite directions, Sly jumped down. He dashed to the left, knocking that guard upwards before grabbing him with his cane and slamming him down. He then immediately turned to his right and dashed forward before the other circle-walking guard, who heard the noise and was coming to check, could see him. He ran around that guard, getting to his back and performing the same maneuver onto him. There were now two unconscious gorilla bodies in a pile in front of him. Then, he heard footsteps. He had misjudged how quick the last guard was, able to cross the rooftop in less then a second. A light shone on him. The guard aimed his pistol and began firing. Sly ducked and weaved, jumped and flipped, all around the roof in order to dodge the laser bolts, frantically rummaging through his belt as he did so.

_Why don't I keep this thing organized?!_ he thought as he pushed aside numerous tiny alarm clocks, trying to reach the bottom of the pocket. _Come on, come on, A-ha!_ Sly's fingers finally closed around a smoke pellet. Quickly, he launched it at the guard, hitting him square in the chest. Thick clouds of billowing blue smoke covered the guard, completely obscuring his vision. Faced with a loss of vision, he started firing blindly, but Sly could dodge those shots easily. He came up the cloud of smoke and looked at the guards silhouette, judging where his head was. As soon as it was located, Sly swung his cane up and clobbered the guard square in the chin. The guard flew up into the air and was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Sly leaned onto his cane and slowed his breathing. Wiping the sweat out of his eyes, he located the grate and dropped inside.

* * *

><p>After navigating the labyrinth that served as the castle's central heating system, crawling on his belly the whole time, Sly started to hear a very familiar voice. Following the sound, he went through the ducts until he reached an opening.<p>

From his perspective, Sly could tell that the opening was on the floor, as he was looking up at a lavish room. It was very nicely arranged; soothing colors, tasteful decorations, but that wasn't what got Sly's attention as he looked into it and saw a very familiar back to go with the familiar voice.

"So, this is the thing you think Cooper might be after?" asked Inspector Carmelita Fox, as she looked at something on a desk.

Sly smiled. He couldn't help it, the sight of his favorite vixen always put joy in his heart. Still, he had a job to do, and the only thing close to the sight of Carmelita was the look on Bentley's face when he realized she was there too. Sly pulled out his Binocucom and took a picture of the Inspector's back, sending it to Bentley. The response was immediate.

"What!?" Bentley sputtered. "How could she be here? How does Inspector Fox keep finding us?! Oh, this is bad. It's a good thing you saw her so early."

With every word Bentley said, Sly's smile grew. Even with all the times they had outwitted her, Bentley still acted like it was the first time Interpol was on their tail. Sly swept his binocucom around the room, eventually finding the map piece. It was in a display above a bookshelf, angled down, so visitors could look up in wonder at it, along with the three or four other things in the display case. He took a picture and sent it to Bentley.

"Yep," the turtle said. "There it is. But there's no way we're getting it out of this room. I'll try and think of something."

Then Sly fixed his viewfinder onto the toad himself, and sent the last picture to Bentley.

"That's Rainier. He's a bit… slow would be the nice way to put it. But whe- Wait," Bentley's voice suddenly acquired a note of urgency. "Take a picture of that gemstone next to him," he ordered.

Sly raised an eyebrow, but shifted his view and zoomed in on the red gem, snapping a photo and sending it along.

"Oh. My. Gosh! Sly, do you know what that is?" Bentley asked with wonder in his voice.

"A really big rock?"

"Not just any 'big rock', that's the Kahaa Diamond!"

"What? Wait, are you serious?" Sly asked in disbelief.

"Oh yes," Bentley said confidently. "I'd recognize that cut anywhere."

"Huh. Well," Sly cockily said, "I guess we have another thing to add to the list."

"Yeah." Bentley was momentarily lost in wonder at their find. He shook himself out of it. "Come on back Sly, I don't want Inspector Fox to sniff you out. Besides, we've got the food and we can't start eating without you. If Murray's stomach growls any louder, the neighbors will think the safe house's been taken over by wolves."

Sly smiled and shook his head. "Don't worry Bentley, this'll be easy." He turned around, ready to leave the air ducts, hungry for food and an upright position. "There's nothing here we can't deal with."

_**Meanwhile, Inside The Room**_

"And this cut! Look at this," Rainier said as he thrust the gemstone into Carmelita's face. "Hand-cut, by the hand of Frederick Zigero himself!'

Carmelita fought the urge to roll her eyes as Rainier continued listing a number of 'distinctions' for his gemstone. It was times like this she really hated her commitment to doing a thorough job. Every time she asked one of these blowhard, old-money punks if they were sure Cooper was coming for something specific, she got a rant explaining why it was worth Cooper's attention, and this was no different. She could almost picture the brochure Rainier had gotten the information from as he waved the diamond around, trying to convince her of its value.

While Rainier was off in his own little world, Carmelita glanced over at Bryce, who was still leaning against the wall. The instant they were allowed into the study, he had found the only undecorated patch of wall in the entire room and leaned against it. He had started to scrape his shoe against the grate near the floor next to him, but a sharp glare from Carmelita stopped that nonsense before it could start. He caught Carmelita looking at him and shrugged.

Rainier eventually paused for breath and Carmelita jumped in. "Thank you for the information, sir," she said, Rainier looking at her like he couldn't believe he'd gotten interrupted. Carmelita pulled a business card out of her vest. "If anything more surfaces, give the number a call and it'll find its way to us." Carmelita turned around and quickly exited the room. Bryce followed, closing the door on the stunned toad.

The officers were silent as they were escorted out the mansion, got into Carmelita's car, and drove out of Rainier's private little hamlet. It wasn't until they were on the highway, driving towards the hotel Interpol had arranged for them to stay in, that one of them felt it was safe to talk.

"He was lying to me," Carmelita said, her hand on her chin as she looked out the window.

"Ohh-" Bryce was cut off by a yawn. He took one hand off the steering wheel and covered his mouth until it passed. He smacked his lips. "Sorry," he said. "What about?"

Carmelita faced Bryce. "The diamond. He made up all of those tag-lines, I'm sure of it." Carmelita knew a rehearsed performance when she saw one, and the way Rainier stumbled when she interrupted him cinched it.

"Why? You think he doesn't want us to know what Cooper's really after?"

"No. He wasn't lying when he told us that Cooper wanted it, he just didn't tell us _why_." Carmelita rubbed her temple, trying to think through the fog of sleepiness.

Bryce nodded, making a small "hmm" sound.

Carmelita opened her mouth to say a little more, but a face splitting yawn put a stop to whatever it was.

Bryce glanced over and saw her all but pulling at her eyelids to keep them apart. He looked at the GPS. "It's still a twenty, thirty minute drive before we get to the hotel," he said. "Take a nap, I'll wake you when we get there."

Carmelita was too tired to protest, even if she wanted to. She pulled out her cell phone and left a quick note for herself to check through the records and see if there was anything about a diamond that looked like Rainier's, yawning again as she put it away. She propped her elbow up on the window side armrest, cradled her head in her hand, leaned against the car window, and fell asleep to the sound of the purring engine.

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry this one took so long, I hope it's good enough that you thought the wait was worth it. I actually wrote a lot of Sly's part like it was in one of the games and then realized that video game challenge reads a lot like filler, so I had to scrap most of it. What did you guys think? Please let me know in a review, the knowledge that people are enjoying what I write gives me more reason to go on. Also, I'm juggling three stories right now, and knowing more people prefer one over the others gives me more reason to focus on it.


	6. Blood Diamonds and Decoys: Part 3

As the results of her latest failed search came up on her laptop, Carmelita pounded one hand against the wooden table and brutally massaged her forehead with the other as she snarled at the screen. She let out a long breath full of frustration through her clenched teeth. She threw her head back, shoving all of her weight at the cheap wooden chair she sat on. It had been thirty-five minutes since she and Bryce had gotten into the hotel room, thirty-four minutes since they had decided who got which of the parallel twin beds. Thirty-three minutes since she had placed her laptop on the dinky table against the wall and heard the horrible wooden chair screech against the floor as she sat in it, all the while informing Bryce that she didn't care what channels the shitty CRT TV in the room got. Thirty-two minutes since he had gone to take a shower while she decided to do a little more research on why Cooper might be going after Rainier, and thirty minutes since she started going through Interpol's database to try and find out more about the diamond. In order for her to navigate said database, she had to use the horrible, terrible, spawn-of-Satan search engine that Interpol used.

It took fourteen minutes of unfruitful searching for her to grow annoyed at the Interpol logo taunting her in the top-left corner. It only took three more for her to loathe it.

At twenty minutes in, she had started to curse at it under her breath as the same results kept on popping up no matter how she adjusted the search terms.

Within twenty-four her voice had risen and she had foregone English for her native tongue of Spanish .

At the twenty-seven minute mark, she ceased using any recognizable language as she yelled at it.

By the time Bryce came out of the bathroom it had been a full half hour of Carmelita slamming head-first into the brick wall that was the Interpol search engine, and at this point she hated the stupid search bar, the stupid font, the stupid layout, the stupid programmers of the stupid thing, the stupid diamond, her stupid badge for having the same logo as the stupid thing, her stupid laptop for being the stupid thing to expose her to the stupid thing, and the hotel room's stupid wallpaper, although to be fair, that wasn't the search engine's fault. It was quite horrendous.

Bryce, now in a pair of boxers and a pajama tee, saw Carmelita fuming in the chair, looking like she was about to bounce on her laptop and go for the throat. He went towards Carmelita. "Something wrong?" he asked as he walked, stopping when he was just outside of her reach.

"Gah!" Carmelita growl-screamed as she made a gesture with her hands like she was throwing a pair of invisible yo-yos at the laptop screen. Taking this as an invitation to look, Bryce strode up next to her.

He understood the moment the screen came into view. "Oh that damn thing. Sucks, doesn't it."

Carmelita angrily nodded.

"What are you even searching for?" he asked.

Carmelita sighed and ran her hand down her face. She tried to turn around and face him, but, not being in a swivel chair, only succeeded in thrusting her shoulder forward a bit. She recovered and covered began to rub her eyes. "I was trying to look up the diamond, see if it was maybe stolen or something to explain why Rainier lied to me."

"And, what?" Bryce asked, "You can't find anything about it in the database? Maybe it's legit."

"It's not that there's nothing about it in the database," Carmelita said, her voice rising on every word. "It's that I can't _get _the database _to tell me_ if there's nothing about it in the database! I don't know it's name so I can only look it up by describing it and it keeps on matching the description with things that have nothing to do with it! Here, look at this!" Carmelita pushed the laptop over so Bryce could see it more clearly. Bryce looked at the search terms: blood diamond, red, hexagon, twelve triangular planes, 1 ½ cm thin. He looked down. The first five results were: A crown with twelve gems in it, a gemstone checker set, a ruby that was _not_ 1 ½ cm thin, another gem-studded crown, and a stolen car with gems in the tires. Bryce had no words.

"Why are you keen on finding this out?" he asked, changing the subject. "I thought you just wanted to catch Cooper and his gang?"

"I don't like being lied to," Carmelita said. "More importantly, if Rainier got the diamond illegally, it's our job to bring him to justice and return it to its rightful owners."

Bryce looked annoyed for a second before feeling guilty and wiping it off his face. Carmelita was right. "I know someone who can tell you for sure if the diamond's a big deal or not," he said.

"What?" Carmelita asked in surprise. "You do?"

"Yeah, an old friend of mine. If that diamond's important to anyone, he'll know."

Carmelita looked at him skeptically. "Really? You're sure?"

"Absolutely, one-hundred percent," Bryce swore. "He's never failed me before on something like this."

Carmelita still felt a bit uneasy about it, but it was late, she was tired, and she wanted a change of scenery and a shower. "Okay, I'll trust you," she said, her words carrying a hint of warning.

"Great. Just write down the best description of it you can right now so you don't forget in the morning."

"In the morning?" Carmelita asked. "Why not call them right now?"

Bryce looked at her like she was crazy. "Carmelita, if I called him this late, he'd personally swim across the English channel, hike through all of France, jump the French-Spanish border, and come straight here to bust down our doors and try to kick my ass. And I don't feel like paying for a new hotel door."

Carmelita was so tired, and Bryce had said all of that so seriously, that she had to laugh. Bryce dropped his serious face and smiled once the first got past her lips. She turned back to her laptop, quickly typed out a description of the diamond, very easily considering how much she had just had to do that, and went off to take a shower as Bryce grabbed his tablet and headphones and flopped down onto his bed.

Carmelita turned on the shower and stripped, making sure all of her dirty clothes were in a distinct pile from the clean ones she brought in. Fortunately, the shower water was still hot from Bryce and she was able to jump right in. As she let the water beat against her face, she felt all of the anger and stress she had built up ooze away. Once she was able to breath calmly for the first time in twenty minutes, she let her mind go blank as she started cleaning herself. By the time she turned off the water, she was herself again.

She toweled herself off and put on her nightclothes. She took a look in the mirror and smiled at herself, a habit she had picked up from her mother back when she was little. The faint smile still on her face, she stepped out of the bathroom and back into the hotel room proper.

She heard Bryce speaking. She turned and saw him on his bed with his headphones in, under the covers but propping his upper body against his headrest. He was smiling and talking to someone on his tablet.

"Well, in the poor kid's defense, pulling pigtails _never_ stops being fun." He paused for a moment. "Oh no, my great secret, you've figured it out!" he said teasingly. He glanced up from his tablet and saw Carmelita awkwardly standing in front of the bathroom door. He turned back down to the screen. "I think it's time for me to go to sleep." His teasing smirk shifted to a heartfelt smile. "I love you, too. Sweet dreams." He hit the end call button. He looked up at Carmelita, still smiling happily. A few seconds passed. Carmelita felt embarrassed, like she had just seen Bryce naked.

"Who was that?" Carmelita asked.

"My fianceè." Bryce looked back down at the screen as he started gesturing with it in his hand. "She was telling me about one of her students who kept going up behind this girl and revving her ponytails like a motorcycle."

"Oh." Carmelita was finally able to move her body. She went over to turn off the main light in the room. "Do you mind?" she asked.

"No, not at all," Bryce said as he turned on his desk lamp and began carefully arranging his bedside table for the morning.

Carmelita began crawling under the covers of her bed. "Your fianceè's a teacher?" she asked, still feeling a little awkward.

"Yeah. She teaches teens back in Lyon."

"Oh. That's nice."

Bryce made a noise in the affirmative. "I'm going to sleep." He clicked off his lamp. "G'night."

"Yeah, I should too," Carmelita said, thankful for a way out of the conversation. "Good night."

_**Earlier, At the Safehouse**_

"Come on, Bentley!" Murray said. "Get outta that corner and face The Murray like a man!"

"Why don't you come and push me out?" Bentley said.

Sly placed another clean plate onto the stack on the countertop next to him. As he started rinsing the next, he turned to look over his shoulder at his friends' battle. Murray and Bentley were sitting next to each other with massive controllers in their hands, focusing on the two tiny cars in the square outline at their feet.

Murray was slowly growing more incensed, muscles bulging as he gripped his controller to the point of leaving small indents in the plastic, rocking back in forth in his little chair as he tried and failed to coax Bentley's car out of the corner and back to middle of the ring where they could fight without possibly ringing out. Every time Murray tried to ram his car out of the ring, Bentley would turn his car just enough that he could get out of the way and Murray would drive straight past him out of the ring. Bentley was the picture of smirking composure, slouching in his wheelchair with only one hand loosely gripping the controller as the other propped his head up.

Sly shook his head and turned back to the sink. It was his night to do the dishes, and Murray and Bentley had decided to stay up a little while to keep him company in the safehouse's main room. After they got bored watching him wash dishes, Murray thought it might be fun to get out a couple of Penelope's RC cars and have them sumo fight. Sly had to admit it was nice to have some background noise while he hunched over the sink, even if Murray's moans of anguish got old after the fourth straight time he lost.

"No!" said Murray. Sly turned around to see what had happened. Murray was slouched in his seat, with one arm loosely gripping his controller as it hung at his side while Bentley did a little victory dance with his controller in his lap. Both of them were looking at the floor, where Bentley's car was just inside the ring, having pushed Murray's out when it tried backing up to get some room to build up speed.

Bentley finished off his dance and turned to his friend. "Well done!" he said as he extended a hand which the pink hippo shook without hesitation. "Wanna go again?"

"No, thanks!" Murray said, holding his hands up in a position of surrender. "The Murray has been humbled enough for one evening. Besides," Murray yawned. "I need to sleep."

Bentley nodded before letting out a yawn of his own. "I should get some rest as well, if I want to be able to give you all a sensible plan in the morning," he said. "Good night, Sly."

"I'll see you guys in the morning," Sly said as his friends went to the sleeping room in the safehouse, where the gang had set up all of their temporary beds, and he began washing the last of the dirty plates. He smirked, remembering what happened last time Bentley stayed up all night working on a plan. The turtle had needed to prop himself up on his desk as he explained to Sly and Murray exactly how many sparrows they would need to get from the pumpkin seller to distract him so that he wouldn't call for help as they robbed the jewelry store, refusing to listen when Murray gently tried to explain to him that they were robbing a casino.

_We were all such idiots back then,_ Sly thought as he remembered how gung ho he was with the plan, confident that he could convince an octopus to follow him through the forest. He placed the last plate onto the stack and turned off the sink. Sly lifted his arms and stretched his back out with a triumphant sigh, working out the kinks that had appeared from being hunched over for so long. He began stretching his other body parts as he tried to think of a way to kill a few minutes.

This was a long standing problem for Sly. He always went to bed later than everyone else, which meant that there was always a stretch of time where he had to amuse himself every day, all while taking care not to disturb any of his friends or alert anyone that there was a gang of thieves in whatever safehouse they were in, which meant he couldn't make too much noise.

He twirled his hat around one of his fingers, throwing it up into the air and catching it on a different finger, but that quickly got boring. He considered organizing his tool pouch to avoid another situation like the one he had faced on the rooftop, but dismissed the idea on account of being lazy. He picked up his cane and began doing practice swings with it, trying to tire himself out enough to go to sleep, but the more he exercised the more awake he felt. He put the cane down with a sigh, leaning it against the wall before sitting down on a chair across from it.

He let out another, deeper, sigh as he started tapping his foot. Sly was a man of action, always working towards some purpose, whether it was serious, like reclaiming the _Thievius Raccoonus _or taking a jar of cookies, or for fun, like teasing Carmelita or even just running towards the next rooftop. Sitting in a room, counting the seconds until he could start doing something again, was torture.

As he sat, his eyes started tracing out the hook on his cane. The symbol of his family. _All the ancient techniques for dealing with every kind of obstacle imaginable, and they never came up with a way to deal with boredom?_ Sly idly wondered. _How did Dad deal with it?_ Sly thought, surprising himself. But, once the trail of thought began, he couldn't stop it. _Did he flip cards into his hat? Tiddlywinks? Maybe he meditated. Maybe his dad taught him a trick, passed down through the family. _

There was a very good reason Sly didn't think about his father much. Sly had dedicated his early life to reclaiming his family's legacy and proving himself worthy of the name, trying to become everything a Cooper was meant to be. He'd nearly killed himself several times trying to get the _Thievius Raccoonus_ back, and eventually he'd done it, a feat he'd followed up on by permanently getting rid of his family's worst enemy. But after all of that, he still had one niggling doubt in the back of his mind that wouldn't go away.

As he sat in his rickety chair, drifting to sleep, separated from his surrogate family by a wall, Sly Cooper wondered what he was missing; what parts of being a Cooper his ancestors had neglected to put into the book.


End file.
